Did you know I’ve got my own hooker at school?

I dropped Finn and Cal off at school and then Ro-Ro and I were driving to his preschool, belting out Adele’s ‘Hello’ at the top of our lungs (because you can’t not sing that song as passionately as possible when it comes on the radio….even if they’ve already played it countless times this week and you’ve actually started humming it in your sleep) and playing yet another round of “I Spy” (Ro-Ro’s very favorite car game) as we motored along the highway.

The song had just ended and I was trying to listen to the traffic news when Ro-Ro suddenly burst out, “Mommy, did you know I’ve got my own hooker at school?”

I jerked forward in shock. The car swerved slightly to the right. Was I hearing him correctly? Did my sweet boy just say the words ‘school’ and ‘hooker’ in the same sentence?

“Ummmm, what was that again, Ro? I couldn’t hear you over the radio.”

He rolled his eyes (because he does that constantly now) and repeated, “I was just telling you that I have my own hooker at school.”

“You…you do?” That couldn’t be right. I had no clue what he was talking about, but I knew that it couldn’t possibly be what it sounded like.

“Yup. Everyone does. We all have our own hookers,” he told me, looking very sure of himself. “But mine’s the nicest.”

What?!!!

“Why’s that Ro?” I asked him, attempting to concentrate on my driving while feeling rather confused and alarmed.

“My hooker just is.”

“Uhhh…” I didn’t know what to say next. I was kind of scared to ask any more questions, but any responsible mother would…right? “So, tell me about your hooker then,” I said, turning off the radio. “I’m gonna need to know a bit more, Ro.”

“Well….when I get to school, Miss Lisa says to go right to your hooker and put your coat on your hooker. My hooker holds my coat until I go home.”

“Your hooker holds your coat?”

“Yup, the whole time. And my hooker’s right by the door,” he explained to me. After a short pause, he declared “I love my hooker.”

Hold on a second, I thought to myself. I think I know what he’s talking about.

“Honey, do you mean your hook? Are you talking about your coat hook?” I asked him.

“Ugh! You’re just not getting me, Mommy! I’m trying to tell you about my HOOKER!”

If my four-year-old has a hooker at school, I’m going to have a serious talk with his teachers about what kind of establishment they’re running there. On the other hand, I know what we pay in tuition each month and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t cover the cost of a hooker…not that I would know what hookers are charging these days (or ever for that matter).

Oh, God. He’s going to be telling everyone he knows about how much he loves his hooker and how his hooker holds his coat while he’s at school. Child Protective Services is going to be knocking on our door any day now, wondering why our four-year-old knows about hookers and has one at school.

I took a long, deep breath and told him once again, “Ro, it’s called a hook. A hooker is a totally different kettle of fish. Totally different.”

“You just don’t get me!” he insisted, as he pursed his lips out into a pout and turned towards his window.

That’s right. He’s four years old and I ‘just don’t get him’. I thought I had at least a few more years before he started spouting things like that, but apparently not.

I can’t wait to see what interesting conversations the rest of the day brings….

“If my four-year-old has a hooker at school, I’m going to have a serious talk with his teachers about what kind of establishment they’re running there. On the other hand, I know what we pay in tuition each month and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t cover the cost of a hooker…not that I would know what hookers are charging these days (or ever for that matter).”
Hilarious! I love this post!

About Nikki

Nikki is a Canadian Blogger who is captivated by the wonders of everyday life and writes about the experiences of raising three inquisitive and quirky little boys. She also loves to bake and shares sinfully scrumptious recipes that might just sabotage your diet.